My injuries. [ It was almost funny, that word. Gustave had been dead long before any of them had realised, but that wasn't exactly true. Though he trusted the fae as much as he trusted Verso, that needling thought lingered. Condemned to die. In the end, it doesn't change anything — Gustave would have still stood between Renoir and Maelle, he would have chosen to die to protect her no matter what led up to that choice. ]

I was as lucky as I needed to be. [ A half-hearted shrug and a flickering smile. It was... an understatement, just as comical, just as heartbreakingly final. Gustave hadn't been lucky, no one in Lumière had ever been, but he'd had hope and he had dreams and in the end, he did what he could. For those who come after. ] Your motivational speaking needs work, [ he jokes as he shifts his feet, watching and waiting, knuckles blanching where he gripped the sword too tightly. ]

Yeah, I... I know. I saw. [ Every time he closes his eyes, he sees. That kind of terror doesn't go away without a fight, even if the blood was gone and the screams had stopped. ] I did what I had to. For Maelle. For Lune. Sciel. I'd do it again if I had to.